


Before the Abyss

by hawkesquad



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 18:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12612436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkesquad/pseuds/hawkesquad
Summary: She laughed. “You can just call me by my first name, you know.”For a second, Cassandra wasn’t sure how to respond. She looked at the ground and muttered, “It- it wasn’t mentioned in the book, actually…”“Cassandra!” Hawke stared at her, indignant. “Are you telling me that you don’t know my name?”





	Before the Abyss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [orionwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionwrites/gifts).



> Casshawke because I'll die in a pile of rarepairs.

Hero worship. That’s what Varric called it.

Hero worship for the woman in front of her, the woman who stood at her eye height, the woman with a quirked and playful smile. It was less sardonic than Varric described in his Tale of the Champion. She seemed tired, older, genuine, but the glint in her eyes as she looked at Cassandra was the same as the Seeker had read about a hundred times in her worn copy of the book.

“Cassandra Pentaghast, I presume,” Hawke said, extending a hand. It was gloved and Cassandra had to swallow her disappointment. She couldn’t deny the urge to feel her warmth, to prove to herself that it was really _the_ Champion standing in front of her. She gave a simple shake, holding on slightly longer than she meant to. It must’ve been a trick of the fleeting sunlight that made it look like Hawke smiled a little at that.

For a moment she’d forgotten her bald fury at Varric for concealing Hawke because Maker, _she was here._

“Champion.” Cassandra’s throat was dry. She had no idea what to say. What _did_ you even say when you met someone like Hawke in person? “How long will you be staying?”

Damn it. She cursed herself for it. She didn’t mean for it to be all brusque business but she couldn’t find her tongue.

“Oh, I don’t know. Varric, your Inquisitor isn’t eager to head off to Crestwood yet?”

“Nah, he’s heading off this evening to do Maker knows what with Solas in the Exalted Plains. It’ll be days before he’s back and that’s at the earliest.” Varric carefully avoided eye contact with Cassandra. “I’m sure the Seeker won’t mind if you stay, right?”

Hawke turned her bright eyes back to Cass, a look on her face that probably no one could say no to, and she just barely managed not to shout her assent.

After a few minor details had been worked out—namely that Hawke would be staying in a room off the gardens instead of in the soldiers’ tents in order to keep chaos to a minimum—they prepared to go.

“Thanks for your hospitality, Cassandra,” Hawke took a step closer and grasped her hand again, a more familiar gesture than the first shake. “I’m looking forward to staying.”

Before she could respond, Hawke and Varric had started to leave. She was left alone on the battlements with a warm hand and warmer cheeks.

❤

What was supposed to be a few days had turned into a week and a half. The Inquisitor had sent word that they were going to some ruins a bit further down the banks and would be camping for upwards of a fortnight.

Hawke assured them that it was fine, that her “Warden friend” would be safe for now as long as he didn’t move in alone, a move she said was “too stupid even for him.” Cassandra had heard of Alistair, once the heir to the throne of Ferelden and consort to the Hero. None of the stories painted him as a fool but the way Hawke spoke made it sound like he was a professional at being one.

When Cassandra asked Leliana later, she didn’t deny it, though she did say that he was a good-hearted man who was cleverer than people gave him credit for.

As the days stretched on, Hawke began joining Cassandra for sparring matches. The first time came as a shock.

“Why, Messere Pentaghast, the way you swing that sword, I’d think that mannequin owes you coin.” Hawke was leaning arms folded against the low fence that bordered the training yard. That same playful smile danced on her lips and Cass forced herself to meet the woman’s gaze.

“Yes, well, we must take training seriously or we cannot grow.” Her inability to make small talk felt…embarrassing. _Say something friendly._ “Care to join me?”

Hawke grinned and vaulted the fence in a single, graceful move, drawing her blades and stepping into an open space. It was precise and beautiful to watch.

“Coming, Cassandra?” Hawke’s smile seemed to deepen as she watched Cass shake herself out of it.

She stepped into the space, her sword ready. For a moment there was nothing but stillness, silence as they collected themselves and sized one another up.

And then motion, furious but careful strikes. She could block Hawke’s blows but they weren’t easy to keep up with. She got one good strike in, knocking Hawke back several feet, but before she’d even reset the woman had spun in a way Cass could only describe as catlike and was up in between the Seeker and her sword. It was over in a second, Cass’s feet coming out from under her. As she hit the dirt she was fiercely aware of the daggers both at her throat and poised above her head, as well as the weight of Hawke’s body pressing her down.

For once, Cassandra’s mind stayed steady. She thought about the ease with which Hawke had done it. She was described as graceful and dangerous in Varric’s stories and she saw now that it wasn’t even remotely an exaggeration. Cass didn’t doubt that if they fought for real, even she would have a very hard time winning.

After the moment had passed and Hawke stood up, offering a hand which Cassandra politely refused, she found herself awe-struck. She was no fan of losing but being beaten by Hawke was honorable, expected. She felt an undeniable surge of glee that mixed strangely with the competitive fire building in her chest.

“Again,” she said simply.

Hawke looked at her for a moment, the lively smile replaced by a thoughtful look.

She nodded.

They went on like that for most of the first week, spending at least an hour or two every day on it. Hawke won most of their bouts but Cassandra got a couple of fairly impressive wins in herself, which the woman noted cheerfully.

It was strange, she realized after a while. She was far more comfortable swinging a sword with the woman than she was simply talking. She’d always been better at talking with her body anyway.

Later that week, she expressed the thought to Hawke herself as they were cleaning their blades. After a moment of pointed, blue-eyed staring, Cassandra’s face reddened and she sputtered, “N-no, that’s not what I— stop laughing! You know what I meant.”

Hawke wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye and swallowed her laughter. “Oh, I know, but you should’ve seen your face.”

“You’re mean.”

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“I— what?” Hawke just laughed again.

“If you think you’re better at talking with your body, we should have a real conversation sometime.” Hawke had put her now clean daggers back into place.

“Of course,” Cassandra replied, bemused.

It wasn’t until later that evening that she really thought about what Hawke had said. She went to bed ruddy cheeked and more than a little tingly, though she wouldn’t have admitted to it even under torture.

❤

The Inquisitor came back two weeks after he’d left, citing “unbelievable, piece of shit, lootless excuse of a ruin with a goddamn dragon at the end” as reason for his late-yet-early return and disappeared along with Solas and Dorian into the keep while Bull made his way back to the tavern.

It was livelier than usual for about an hour and then the Inquisitor’s surly mood seemed to catch on. At least Cassandra could count on him (and Hawke) staying one more night in light of that.

She found herself alone in the courtyard that evening, for once too tired even to train. She leaned against the small brick wall, her back to the tents below, and stared up at the cloudy night sky. For a while she stayed there in silence, picking out stars when she could from gaps in the cloud cover. It was cold and sharp and she found herself thinking about Hawke.

The last couple weeks had meant more to her than anything had in a long time. The work they did was important. She had to believe that or she’d go mad.

But even so, she couldn’t deny the particular fire that being around Hawke lit in her.

She liked the Inquisitor well enough but not for the first time she found herself wishing they’d managed to find the Champion first.

“You look awful lonely out here by yourself.” The voice, now familiar, cut across the night. Hawke’s mastery of eliminating her presence was quite complete. Cassandra hadn’t been able to tell she was there, a fact that two weeks ago might have made her uncomfortable but one that was now comforting in the skill of which it spoke. Fighting by Hawke’s side must be something, she thought.

Her eyes stayed fixed on Hawke as the woman approached, footsteps silent even in the quiet night.

“Not lonely, just alone,” Cass said. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t sleep.” Hawke hopped up and sat on the wall beside where Cassandra stood. “Are you coming with us to Crestwood?”

The question caught her off guard. She was so used to the Inquisitor leaving her behind on missions that she hadn’t even considered the possibility he’d ask her along. She could muscle her way in—it wasn’t as though they had a bad relationship, he just preferred the extra magic and to always have Bull at his side. She minded how often it seemed as though she got benched but still, she rarely asked him to bring her.

She wondered if she could ask this time, if it wouldn’t seem strange or inappropriate.

“The Inquisitor prefers other people’s company,” she said simply.

Hawke pondered that for a moment before smiling over at her. “I’d prefer your company if It’s all the same to him.”

Cass couldn’t meet her eyes then. She busied herself once more spotting stars in the cloudy canopy.

“I can ask.”

There was quiet between them for a while and when the Seeker looked up, she was caught in the woman’s warm gaze.

“Cassandra.”

It always caught her off guard to hear it no matter how many times Hawke said her name. She swallowed.

“Hawke.”

She laughed. “You can just call me by my first name, you know.”

For a second, Cassandra wasn’t sure how to respond. She looked at the ground and muttered, “It- it wasn’t mentioned in the book, actually…”

“Cassandra!” Hawke stared at her, indignant. “Are you telling me that you don’t know my name?”

Cass jerked away from her, embarrassed. “It’s not like anyone told me!” Her eyes snapped back to Hawke’s which were surprisingly friendly all things considered.

She found herself shocked into silence again.

Hawke calmly lowered herself from the wall, graceful as ever, and stepped close to Cassandra. The Seeker was wrong. Hawke wasn’t the same height as her, she was shorter. Not by much but she found herself looking down into those eyes so blue they seemed to glow faintly.

She hadn’t realized how close Hawke was.

“Oh, Cassandra,” she said and shook her head, her tone gently mocking.

One arm curled around the back of Cass’s neck, pulling her closer. She let it, too stunned to be embarrassed and too interested to care about decorum.

“It’s Marian,” Hawke whispered. She closed the distance between their lips and then they kissed, soft and sweet for half a second before Cassandra’s hands found their way to her sparring partner’s sides. She held for a moment before she realized where the two of them were. Anyone could see them.

She pulled back, pushing Hawke away gently as she did.

The question on Hawke’s lips never made it out. She was being pulled across the field and into the hall at the far end. It was a mess hall by day but at night it was quiet, abandoned.

“Oh, your rendezvous palace, I see. Lucky me,” Hawke said gleefully, the fireplace glowing still. Cassandra would have to give someone chamber pot duty for a week for not putting that fire out before bed but for now, she was unbelievably grateful.

“It’s not a rendezvous palace. It’s not like I do this often.” She’d barely turned around before Hawke’s lips were back on hers, fiercer this time. She gasped and then her hands were cradling the Champion’s hips. She’d have to work to get this armor off, she realized.

As if Hawke had read her mind, she pulled away, their lips parting and the fire crackling the only sounds.

The Champion shed her clothes in quick, practiced movements. It was less than a minute before she was standing there in nothing, the firelight glinting off the hair gathered between her legs.

Cassandra couldn’t tear her eyes off the body in front of her. It was scarred and muscular and voluptuous. Beautiful, the body of a woman who had spent years in battle.

Her need was clear. The glistening hair between her legs seemed to invite Cassandra.

“What are you waiting for?” Hawke challenged, her smile both taunting and eager.

Cassandra swallowed. She moved closer, pushing Hawke up against the table behind her. As she dropped to her knees and pressed her face into that inviting wetness, she was rewarded with a soft gasp. The taste was heady, salty, everything she wanted and more. She wrapped her hands around Hawke’s thighs and rubbed them softly before moving one of them over her shoulder so she could get closer. Get _more._

“I meant take off your clothes but Maker preserve me, don’t stop.”

Hawke’s fingers carded through her short hair and gripped tight. Not enough to sting but more than enough to tell Cass she was doing well.

She let her left hand drift between Hawke’s legs— _Marian’s_ legs—and she moved her lips out of the way to begin teasing the woman with her fingers. Cass kissed her thighs, her stomach, everything she could reach as her fingers circled and massaged.

“Cassandra, please,” her voice was unusually gruff. It was incredibly sexy.

If Cass thought for even a moment, she’d be too overwhelmed by nerves to keep going, so she did what she did best. She cleared her mind and focused only on the goal. The goal of filling her mouth with Hawke’s juices.

When she moved her lips back to continue pleasuring Marian, her fingers slipped south and upward into her. The heat and wetness were nearly unbearable and the urge to use that fluid to begin rubbing her own needy sex was nearly overwhelming. She sucked harder, licked on and around Hawke’s swollen clit, fucked her with those calloused fingers.

The Champion was moaning, crying out softly, and gripping her hair so hard it was beginning finally to sting.

“Cass, there, I’m so close— Oh! Oh Maker, keep going,” Her muttered cries were blending together into a series of curses and pleas and finally she curled her body forward around the Seeker’s face and shook softly, a warm rush of fluid drenching Cass’s chin.

Gently licking, avoiding overstimulating her, Cass cleaned Hawke as she leaned back and gasped for breath. Her beautiful chest heaved and Cassandra felt a moment of remorse for not paying attention to those breasts yet. She’d make it right as soon as she could.

She pulled her face back and moved to lick her fingers when Hawke pulled her into a standing position—a feat Cass didn’t fully realize was possible, especially right now—and kissed her roughly. She licked at the fluid on Cass’s face before moving back to kissing her properly.

“If I’d known you were so good at that, I’d have suggested it in lieu of sparring ages ago.”

She laughed, surprised. “So you think I’m worse at sparring?”

Hawke rolled her eyes and started working on undressing Cassandra. She had to push back the nervousness she felt. It wasn’t that she didn’t think her body was maintained, it had just been a long time since she’d been nude with anyone, even Galyan.

“Wait,” she gasped. Hawke stopped, the focus in her eyes turning tender.

“You alright?” Her hands that had been working on undoing Cass’s breastplate moved to rest on her shoulders.

“Yes, I— It’s been a while is all.” Her eyes had fallen. Hawke smiled encouragingly.

“If you want to stop, I understand, but if you’re okay with continuing, you should know one thing.”

Cass looked up, faintly surprised. “What’s that?”

“I have no idea how to get this off you.”

Cassandra barked a laugh.

“No, seriously, did you affix this with magic or something? It’s like it’s all one piece and you were just teleported into it. Unbelievable.” Hawke looked so indignant that it was hard to stay nervous.

Cassandra moved those exploring hands away and started to unbuckle herself. When she was down to just her shirt and trousers, Hawke stopped her.

“Let me do the fun part,” the Champion said.

She kissed Cass passionately and slipped her hands up under the dark fabric of Cassandra’s clothes, cupping her breasts and gently pinching at her nipples. It sent little shocks of pleasure from her chest to her groin, an ache that had started to die when they spoke rekindling now.

She wouldn’t be outdone. She returned the gesture, both hands moving to Hawke’s own perky nipples before letting one drop to tease her again. It was hard to get a finger inside from this angle so she focused only on touching the outer reaches. She felt Hawke grinding on her fingers, needy even as she tried to elicit responses from Cass.

“Call me impatient but I want these in my mouth,” she said, pulling out of the kiss and divesting Cassandra of her shirt. She pulled Cass’s pants down while she was at it and the woman helpfully kicked them out of the way. The shuffle had displaced both their hands but it wasn’t long before Cassandra felt herself being pushed backward against the table.

And then onto it.

“Lay on your back for me, would you?”

At that moment, Cass might have done anything for that voice.

She lay back and then found herself shuffled another two or so feet onto the table and then Hawke was on top of her, body pressing against hers, and catching her lips. When Hawke moved it was to lick and bite at Cass’s hard peaks. It felt incredible but it was so unbearably slow and teasing that she thought she might scream. Hawke was more interested in drawing it out than Cass, it seemed. It was as frustrating as it was wonderful.

“Hawke.”

“Marian.”

“Marian.”

“Yes?” Blue eyes lit by fire peered up at her from over a wet pink tip.

“I don’t mean to rush you but I think I’m getting desperate.”

Hawke laughed and then bit her softly on that nipple. “You want me that bad, Seeker?”

Cass moaned softly, unintentionally, and found herself blushing. She didn’t realize she had a thing for titles. Hawke just smiled.

“I should be sure to give you what you want until you’re satisfied.” Hawke pressed two fingers into her, hard, and fucked her with them.

So much for drawing it out. The pleasure of it made Cass jerk upward, arching into Hawke in her surprise and arousal. The wet sounds seemed deafening compared to the empty hall.

“Good, show me that beautiful face when I fuck you. I want to see how good it feels, Seeker.”

Hawke tweaked a nipple with her free hand and moved off the table to press her face into Cass’s mound. However good Cass had made Hawke feel, the woman had no doubt that it couldn’t compare to this. The way her tongue swirled around her hard heat, the alternating licking and sucking and pressure she felt, it was all too much. Hawke added a third finger and stretched Cass as that hand slammed back and forth, pulling cry after cry from Cass’s desperate lips. She came hard, feeling Hawke slow to pull her through it without giving too much. Hawke moved upward, keeping those fingers inside her but taking the hand off her breast to stroke her face as she kissed a line up Cassandra’s stomach.

“Maker, you’re so lovely when you cum for me,” Hawke said. Cass’s hands moved over her own face, overwhelmed but also incredibly impressed.

When those fingers were finally done with her, she watched Hawke do what she hadn’t managed. One by one they disappeared between full, pretty lips. Hawke’s eyes closed as she tasted Cassandra on her fingers. “Delicious,” she whispered.

Cass could hardly stand it. “You’re too much.”

Hawke laughed. “Is that a complaint, Cassandra? Should I have done something differently?”

Cass dragged her into range and kissed her. For a moment it was passionless, sweet and intimate, and their hands just moved over each other’s faces, shoulders, necks. Anywhere they could touch. They just felt one another.

“I’ll come,” Cass said simply, after a while. They’d touched each other more, filled the hall with cries and a mess Cass would have to remember to clean up herself instead of pawning off on some poor servant.

“Well if you haven’t already, I’m clearly very bad at this,” Hawke said, brushing her bangs out of the way as she lay on her back beside Cass.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

“And after Crestwood? What then?”

“Well, then we’ll see. We go where duty takes us.” Hawke sounded less than thrilled.

“I wish I could accompany you through it all.”

“What, to protect me?” Hawke grinned at her. “My knight in shining armor.”

“Hardly,” Cass said, laughing softly. “I’m quite sure even if something managed to eat you, you’d show up a week later with its heart in your hands and a dozen new friends to show for it.”

“You’ve been reading too many of Varric’s stories.”

Cass looked at her seriously for a moment. “You’ve always seemed larger than life, you know. It’s embarrassing to admit that but I thought of you as this untouchable hero for so long.” She felt shy suddenly.

Hawke gripped her hand reassuringly.

“I just don’t want to lose you. Er, n-not that I presume that I have you, I just—“

Hawke leaned over and kissed her.

“When this mess is all over, I’ll come back here. I can’t promise it’ll be forever, but fight next to me for a while. Watch my back and I’ll watch yours. When this is over, I’ll show you what it means to have me.”

Cass felt the warmth blooming in her cheeks. Tomorrow Hawke would depart before them, traveling separately, and she’d demand to be taken along.

For the moment, though, it was just them and the fire, and so she moved in closer to the lips that smiled down at her.


End file.
